


Better

by Anonymous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu, Parent Ukai Keishin, Parental Ukai Keishin, Platonic Cuddling, Sad Nishinoya Yuu, Sensory Overload, Team Mom Sugawara Koushi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:28:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29450808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Sometimes even Karasuno's guardian deity has his bad days. Sometimes reassurance and a break from everything is all he needs.
Relationships: Azumane Asahi & Nishinoya Yuu, Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu
Comments: 11
Kudos: 87
Collections: Anonymous





	Better

**Author's Note:**

> I thought the internet needed more Noya hurt/comfort content!! (and I literally wrote this during the aftermath of a lovely day of sensory overload😫 so why not project my suffering a bit??😈)
> 
> This is totally self indulgent, my first thing for Haikyuu and definitely NOT my best work (hence the anon oops) but I hope whoever is still searching for Haikyuu fics in 2021 enjoys!! Sorry if its a bit ooc, I still need to practice getting their characters down! :)

* * *

“You alright, Yuu?”

Noya blinked the bleariness out of his eyes and tried to nod despite the lingering headache starting to work its way around his head. It was nice outside, but he couldn’t bring himself to appreciate the warm weather.

Tanaka narrowed his eyes and looked down at him. Noya could always tell when his friend was concerned, and it sure as hell was _now_ and _because of him._

“Fine. Just tired.”

He didn’t know what the hell was up with him today, but everything just felt _wrong._ He could probably chalk it up to the way he woke up to his alarm blaring in his ears that didn’t sound as right as it should have—Noya swore he could still hear the ringing lingering in his ears. 

He sighed, staring down at the fresh grass below his feet. He still had at least half the day left, and he couldn’t have felt worse about it.

He tried to think back on what could have set him off... _breakfast didn’t go down as easy as it should have...Asahi still hadn’t answered his text from last night...he could barely concentrate in class this morning..._

His uniform crept up and choked his neck, and he used his free hand to pull it down again. Even his fucking shirt was irritating him today—that made no sense...he washed it just how he always did, kept it in the same place in his room...was it just _him?_

“Might wanna eat somethin’ before the bell rings, dude,'' Tanaka interrupted his uncomfortable train of thought, and the words shot directly at his ears. He flinched back, despite his voice being just as loud as it usually was. Tanaka frowned. 

“You seriously okay?” he raised an eyebrow, and Noya felt embarrassment creep up his neck. Had he really not eaten anything? Had it really already been an _hour?_

“Fine,” he repeated. He could feel his stomach burn with hunger, but just the thought of touching food made his mind recoil. He felt fucking gross.

“You seem kinda distracted, bro,” Tanaka stated, and Noya felt a strike of guilt hit him. He was probably being fucking annoying. Only _he_ could be obnoxious when he was both loud and quiet.

“Sorry. I gotta big math test after this, and I’m still trying to remember shit,” he fibbed, “And I had a pretty big breakfast. I can still kinda feel it.” 

That wasn’t a complete lie, as he could feel the remains from this morning in the back of his throat when Tanaka cackled and slapped his back. 

“So lazy, Noya! Sleeping instead of studying again? I’m gonna tell Daichi~”

He felt whatever was inside him stir uncomfortably at the touch of his hand, and he tried to laugh quietly along with him. _He really hoped it would reassure him._

_It didn’t._

The kid stopped laughing and looked down at him again. He didn’t seem as sober as _worried Tanaka,_ which was a sight to behold, but Noya still had his suspicions that his friend knew it was an off-day for him. 

“If you’re that stressed, lemme walk you to your next class.”

“Yeah...okay,” he packed up everything he didn’t eat (which really was everything) and tried to follow his friend through the crowded halls without tripping over himself. He’d be fine. He just needed to calm down, focus more. That was it.

  
  
  
  
  


It _had_ to be an off-day...right? 

That’s what it had to be—there was no way it couldn’t be one with the way Noya could barely pay attention the rest of the day. The letters and numbers seemed to melt onto the page until he couldn’t tell what the fuck he was looking at. 

His teacher gave him a dirty look from across the room as he squinted down at the paper, not bothering to fill anything out. He ran a hand nervously through his hair as his head started to pound even more. It didn’t even _hurt_ —it was just so fucking incessant that he was worried he’d smash something if it went on any longer.

Tanaka _had_ to be right. He was just distracted. And gross. And shaky. 

...when did he start shaking? _Why the fuck did he feel so hot and cold at the same time?_

He ran a cold hand over his face, coming in touch with the fire emanating from his forehead. He didn’t have a fever, did he? No...he didn't feel like it. At least, not the typical kind of sick. 

Noya’s hand could barely grip the pen in his hand, and the collar of his uniform pulled on his neck like a choke-hold. The clock on the wall was ticking too quickly. It was twenty seconds off from the clock on his phone. The teacher was looking at him— _why was everyone looking at him?_

He sucked in a breath as everything went blurry again. All he could focus on was how awful he felt sweating cold in his shirt and how uncomfortable it felt sitting in these stupid plastic chairs.

His arms felt too weak to keep up anymore, and he could already see the teacher’s unamused gaze as he dropped his pen beside his unfinished paper and rested his head in his hands. 

_Jesus,_ he felt like shit. His entire body was tingling like he needed to do something, but he felt too awful to move a muscle. The sinking, tingly feeling spread to his head and arms, _and he could feel something in the back of his throat, and he didn’t know how much fucking longer he could handle this and—_

“Class dismissed.”

The bell caught him off-guard, shaking him out of his trance-like-state just for a moment. His hands felt numb as he shoved everything in his bag without a second thought and stood up, mindlessly following the rest of the crowd out the door.

The hallways were hellish—they were fucking hellish, and they were usually _fine._ Noya was fine with the noise, the people, his classmates slapping him on the back, but now the lights on the ceiling seemed to glare into his vision— every touch sent his body into some kind of sickening shock.

Nishinoya was loud. He was obnoxious. He was _supposed_ to like this—thrive in bustling crowds and noisy places. That’s why he was so good at Volleyball, for God’s sake.

But right now, he didn’t. 

Right now, his eyes hurt and his head was buzzing, and he didn’t know whether or not going home would even be a good thing. It was so noisy there between his parents and siblings and the fucking construction happening right down the street. What if going back home and slipping on some headphones to take a nap didn’t just do the trick today?

“Noya!” 

He swallowed back a sigh as a familiar voice yelled from behind him. One that was softer than Tanaka’s, so it must be—

“Hey, Noya!” Suga’s voice drifted into his ears, and he bit back a gasp as the boy gently gripped his shoulder. His chest swelled with dread as he remembered:

He had fucking practice today. Shit. _Shit._

“No skipping out today. The court’s this way,” Suga chuckled, grabbing him by the hand. If it was sweaty and unsteady, the boy didn’t comment. Noya was thankful for that, at least.

Suga eventually pulled them out of the crowd of kids and down a quieter hallway leading outside. Noya found himself struggling to keep up as the upperclassmen dodged people and obstacles until they were finally passing through the gardens.

Nishinoya noticed in horror that Suga’s grip had fallen entirely, and the only thing keeping them together was Noya’s tight grip on the senior’s arm. Suga seemed to notice it too because he halted the pair. Noya let go of his teammate’s wrist. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, _hating_ how quiet his voice sounded today. It didn’t sound like him at all, but he found with much horror that he couldn’t get his voice stronger than that without it wavering. 

“Are you okay?” Suga frowned and took a step closer. Noya tried to block out the sun’s painful rays attacking his vision, “you seem...a bit clingy. Are you sick?” 

He winced as a cool hand brushed across his forehead, sending shockwaves down his entire body. His hands shook at his sides, so he shoved them in his pockets and tried not to push Suga back for touching him so abruptly. 

Suga’s worried expression went away.

“You don't seem warm,” he concluded, “just an off-day today?” 

He found that he couldn’t do anything but nod. It felt like too much of an effort to do anything else. 

“I’m sure you’ll get re-energized once you get onto the court. I’ve seen you do it before,” the boy joked. 

Noya only hoped he was right today.

  
  
  
  
  


He was _so, so_ stupid. He should have just stayed home today—it would have at least spared him the embarrassment. 

But Nishinoya was no skipper, especially if he wasn’t actually sick...though the way the room started to feel less and less like it was actually _there_ was beginning to concern him a bit. 

The air felt chilled against his skin, and Noya braced himself for Tanaka’s serve on the other side of the court. The sound of footsteps screeched around him, and bodiless yells pierced his ears, and—did Tanaka already serve? He swore he was just watching him get ready. 

An unsatisfying noise grated against his ears as the ball bounced directly in front of him, then off the court altogether. 

“Come on, get your head in the game!” Ukai’s voice scolded from the sidelines, and he heard himself utter out a broken apology. Was he _talking_ right now? His head was buzzing and his mouth felt numb, and—

_Was the ball into play again?_

He narrowed his eyes and tried to swallow the tingling dread that emerged in the back of his throat and tried to keep track of the ball. _Asahi. Daichi. Kageyama. Hinata. Spike._

The ball made it to the other side, and his eyes strained to watch it again. _Suga. Tsukki. Yama—wait._

The ball was already whizzing past his feet and rolling out of bounds behind him again. 

“My bad,” he forced out, a familiar pressure building up behind his eyes. _He wasn’t going to cry over this. Not right here._

“Nice try!” Hinata called out to him, but he could see the confusion lining Daichi’s expression in front of him. He could tell that he and Asahi were locking eyes—he didn't want to think about what they were saying about him with just one look. 

_Asahi’s serve._

_Yamaguchi, Suga, Tana—No. Hinata, Kageyama. Hinata again. Over._

_Tanaka, Tsukki, Su—_

Nishinoya felt a cold wind whip at the side of his face as the ball flew past his field of vision again. _Why couldn’t he track it? What the hell was wrong with him?_

“You could have gotten that, Noya!” Ukai growled again. Usually, the man’s words felt like nothing but encouragement, but listening to his voice stab at his ears and his head today made him feel like crying. 

“I got it,” he choked on his words. He could feel the heat of Asahi’s laser stare burning into the side of his head. He thought to stare him down himself, but he was worried the man would see how distraught he looked if he turned to look back at him.

He wasn’t paying attention enough to know who served. He only knew that the ball was suddenly back on their side, and Kage—no—Hinata grabbed hold of it and sent it flying. 

Noya could hear whispering on the benches...it was too loud to be whispering. Why was it so loud? The sneakers squeaking against the ground made his head buzz again, and he ran a hand over his face to try and get it to stop. 

His kneepads dug into his skin—he needed to take them off, adjust them again even though he put them on the exact same way that he always did. The soles of his feet hurt even though they were the shoes he _always wore._ There was something _wrong_ with him. _Why were people staring at him? Why did it sound like the ball was—_

Noya held back a breath as the ball barely touched his shoe, the spike from the other end stopping the ball flat in front of him. Where he would have been diving for it normally. _Normally._

“Nishinoya!” he braced himself for another growl from their coach, “Concentrate, or I’m benching you!” 

“I know!” he snapped back, the feeling of dread threatening to rise, “You don’t have to tell me every fucking time!” 

Silence. 

For the first time that day, absolute silence. He thought his head would finally clear if things went quiet, but the dread in his chest only grew as every voice in the room died out.

“Noya…”

He could only imagine how incredibly pissed off their coach was, but it didn’t amount to the disbelief in Hinata's voice. He had just cussed out their fucking _coach._ This was the man who got up every morning and afternoon and decided to help them out, and he fucking snapped at _him_ to shut up.

“Bench,” Ukai growled, “Now.” 

No one dared move or speak, not even the ones on the bench, and Noya knew he had to be done for. The dam behind his eyes was so close to breaking that it was humiliating. A thousand eyes stared at him, and he felt himself shrink to be even smaller than he was before. 

“Gimme another one.”

He pointed to the ball, still rolling by the benches, and tried to ignore everyone’s poignant stares. Asahi took a cautious step forward. 

“Yuu, I think you need a break—”

“—I don’t need a fucking break.”

He knew he was pushing it, but he couldn’t stand to sit on that bench because of how stupid his body was acting. He was worried that if he sat down now, he would ultimately break.

 _“I fucking said_ gimme another one.”

His entire body was pounding with dread and uncertainty, and he didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with him. Asahi stepped back, and he immediately felt rage shield the guilt he was feeling.

“Noya,” Daichi warned, moving closer to where he was standing. His body felt numb and cold, and Daichi was tall—way taller than him and moving closer and closer to him—

“You need to get off the court, Noya.”

“No, I fucking don’t!” he snapped, throwing his hands up in the air despite the shock it gave his body, “What I need to do is—”

His voice raised to a yell, but Daichi’s hands were already on his shoulders before he could finish. _Daichi was tall. He was strong. And his hands were gripping his shoulders._

_He felt like he was on fire._

He flinched back on impact, and what would have naturally calmed him down sent his body into a frenzy. He couldn’t suppress a strangled cry from coming out of him as he pushed the man away as hard as he could, springing backward.

Daichi’s eyes were as wide as saucers, and the court was silent again. Aside from the bright lights and the buzzing in his head and _the way his knee pads dug into his skin and the thousands of eyes staring at him and—_

He didn’t even realize how loud he was breathing until he _couldn’t_ breathe, and the people that were once looking at him in disbelief were now doing it in concern. 

Daichi’s hands were still up from when Noya pushed them back, and Asahi’s were still up in caution. He looked...guilty? Nishinoya couldn’t tell as mist finally started to gather in the corners of his eyes.

Hinata and Kageyama were shocked silent. 

Noya grabbed his head in his hands as a pair of voices crowded around him, while another one that sounded an awful lot like the coach ordered them to get him off the court. Everyone’s voices were too loud. It felt like his brain had finally crashed in on him, and he struggled to keep his breathing in check.

He fought the urge to curl up in a ball and die right there on the court, but he thought against it. They still needed to play. _Without him._

Breath coming out in little gasps of air, he waved them off with one hand and made a dash towards the supply room. _Shit. Shit shit shit shit._

Voices were still calling out to him as he slammed the door shut, but he didn’t bother reassuring them this time. They all had to know how fucked he was today. Pressing his forehead against the wall, he choked on his breath that unsteadily came out of his mouth. 

He felt sick. Was he going to be sick? There was no way he would let himself be sick in here.

 _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven eightnineteneleven—what the hell am I supposed to count up to again? Fuck._ **_Fuck—_ **

He couldn’t get it under control. He hadn’t been this fucked in a while, but usually, he could get his breathing under control. He couldn’t. He could barely breathe. Oh _god._

He heard the door creak open, and his body let out another quiet cry once he realized he was fucked. They were going to chew him out while he was like _this._ He knew he deserved it right now, but he didn’t know how much of it he could actually take.

This was fucking embarrassing. Everything felt so...so much _._ He should have stayed home today. He should have stayed. He should have—

 _“...to sit down and drink something,”_ a deep voice muttered from somewhere in the room. Noya tried to ignore the hesitant chatter in the corner and focus on not _dying_ when a presence beside him made his shoulders spike. 

“Hey,” it sounded like the coach’s voice, but more mellow. Calmer. “You need to sit down.”

“Ca—can’t,” he stuttered, words locked away the moment he opened his mouth. He felt Ukai’s warming presence still beside him regardless. He usually saw the man as pretty aggressive, especially here coaching them, but he couldn’t feel that energy now. He didn’t sound mad at all.

“C’mon,” the voice spoke again, “I don’t wanna have to touch you, but I need you to sit down for a bit.” 

The thought of someone grabbing him by the shoulders made him want to get worked up all over again, so he nodded painfully and stumbled over to the spare bench sitting in the centre of the room. 

His legs immediately felt a bit better, but the moment he let himself stop moving, the dam blocking his eyes finally broke, and thick tears were flowing freely down his cheeks. 

_Here come the fucking waterworks._

He could feel something warm and wet drip down to his chin, but his hands were shaking too much for him to wipe them away. Bending forward, he buried his head into his chest and arms and tried to quell the shaking in his shoulders.

Much to his horror, he realized that there were actual people in here with him, even if he could barely see a foot in front of him. He swallowed, gasping for air when his throat started to constrict his breath again. It felt like he was dying. What if he _was_ dying?

“Kid.”

He choked back another cry as he felt the bench dip with another person’s weight beside him. He wanted to be left alone so badly—everything about him today was unbearably humiliating.

...but he’d also never felt so awful before. He couldn’t imagine curled up in here alone, either.

“The others are getting some stuff for you, so try to breathe, kid,” the voice beside him said. Nishinoya tried to nod, but it felt like every part of his body wouldn’t stop shaking. 

“Can you tell me what’s up?” Ukai’s worry didn’t sound forced, more...awkward than anything. To be fair, Noya couldn’t imagine any scenario where Coach would have to deal with a crying kid. “I’ve got a pretty big hunch that this isn’t all about earlier.”

He would have laughed had it not been for the shockwaves shooting loose up his body and tightening his chest. 

“Don’t know,” he choked out. Even the wetness on his face was starting to overwhelm him, “Everything’s too loud...too bright...feel awful...couldn’t—couldn’t see the ball…”

He knew those fragmented sentences barely made any sense, but he couldn’t pull any more words out of his brain.

“...sorry for earlier, too...I—”

“I get it, kid. You don’t have to keep talking.” 

It seemed like their coach understood anyway. 

If Noya hadn’t been so out of it, he was sure that sitting, shaking in a storage room while their fucking coach tried to comfort him without touching him would be way more awkward than it was now. Instead, he was too busy trying not to throw up. The pounding in his head worsened by the second, and the crying he was still doing wasn’t really helping his case.

“—was looking off today, but I didn’t know he was gonna be so—” Tanaka’s voice lowered in pitch and faltered when Noya heard the door to the room creak open again.

He dove his head back down when Tanaka and a few other kids entered, and he could hear Ukai whispering harshly at them to turn off the lights.

The room was more silent than before, and with the lights now turned off, the intense pressure on his head loosened just a bit. He thought he heard hushed voices in the corner of the room, and he lifted his head to see who it was.

“I need to talk to you, Tanaka,” Ukai said quietly. The pair cracked open the door and spoke quietly outside of it, leaving a sliver of light to dim the rest of the room. 

Noya sniffled and wiped away a bit of wetness off his cheeks. The two figures still standing in the dimly-lit room walked carefully towards him until he could sense someone sitting beside him. 

“Hey, Yuu,” a soft voice caused him to look up and see Suga kneeling in front of him. Through his veil of tears, he thought he could see a sympathetic look radiating off his face. “Are you feeling any better?”

He shook his head and tried to ignore how embarrassing it felt to have his upperclassmen stare at him while he cried his goddamn eyes out.

“Daichi feels really bad about earlier...he had no idea touching you would set you off like that,” he explained. Noya closed his eyes as something big and warm covered his shoulders, “He wanted me to bring his sweater over for you. He says it might help.”

It really _did_ help. Noya wasn’t sure what this thing was made of, but the warm weight on his shoulders started to calm his breathing a bit. Pulling the hood over his head, he mumbled a quiet “thanks.” 

“You should drink something,” he turned his head and recognized that other soft voice as Asahi, who still looked at him warily from earlier. He thanked God (and Ukai) for only letting in the two players with the gentlest voices. 

A water bottle was being placed in his hands, and half of it was gone before he even realized it. He didn’t even think about how dehydrated he probably was right now.

He looked up at Asahi, who looked away the moment their eyes met. Noya wondered why the man was being so cautious when a sliver of guilt pierced through him. 

“Sorry for snapping at you earlier,” he grit his teeth and pulled the hood further over his head. Asahi made a noise that sounded like surprise, then reassurance. 

“Oh, no, no! I get it! I get like that, too, sometimes.”

Noya had no idea how Asahi had managed to exclaim that so softly, but he didn’t question it. The buzzing in his head dissipated enough that he could finally breathe properly, and he wiped the remaining tears off his face. The overwhelming numbness in his system didn’t leave quite yet, but he had a feeling that the worst was probably over.

“Did...you get too overwhelmed or something like that? Coach was pretty clear that we couldn’t be loud in here,” Suga asked cautiously. Noya shrugged. 

“I guess,” he murmured, “Everything seemed way too loud and bright and shit. I was so fuckin’ disoriented.”

“Sounds like some kind of sensory overload,” Asahi hummed in thought. Suga nodded, and Noya was grateful for the silence. His hands shook with tiny tremors as he lifted the water bottle up again to drink. He still didn’t really know what was going on with him, but whatever everyone was doing right now was helping.

The three of them sat in silence until the door was opened again. 

“I’m sending you home, kid,” Ukai muttered, pointing to the sliver of light leaking out from the gym, “you think you can get there without keeling over?”

As much as Noya wanted to disappear under his covers and forget about today, the thought of his noisy house made his head pound. That’s not even bringing in the fact that he’d have to walk all the way there. 

When he didn’t nod his head, Ukai sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Is there someone who can pick you up?”

_No answer._

“He can come to my house,” Asahi broke his silence once more, but not before turning and lowering his voice in his friend’s direction, “Only if you want to, Noya.” 

Asahi was tall. Asahi was quiet. Asahi’s blankets were made of that really nice cotton that he always managed to snatch whenever he slept over at his place.

Noya nodded tentatively, and their coach snorted. 

“Guess you’re also off the hook for today,” he said, passing Asahi a water bottle for later, “just make sure you’re both good for tomorrow.” 

“Got it!” Asahi already sounded frazzled, and Noya laughed softly. Carefully getting up, he strained his eyes as the doors opened and the room flooded with light. 

Just a little while longer, and he could rest. 

  
  
  
  


“Sit anywhere you like.”

He felt fucking _exhausted._ He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this drained. _From a game, maybe?_ He was too tired to remember.

Daichi let him keep the sweater until tomorrow, and he was grateful for it. The captain felt awful about everything, but Noya reminded him that he was the one being the asshole. How the hell was Daichi supposed to know if grabbing him by the shoulders would finally be the boiling point?

Noya eyed the corner of his friend’s bed, practically collapsing into it. Things were peaceful, and he was so tired, but a part of him still felt on-edge. It was like the very centre of him was still overwhelmingly restless. 

“Anything I can do to help?” Asahi sat next to him on the bed, frowning when Noya shrunk further into himself.

Noya didn’t know. Everything felt _terrible_ —and he knew the walk back home didn't exactly do him any favours.

“I don’t know,” he whined, wrapping his arms tightly around his knees. Asahi looked down at him guiltily before opening his arms and shuffling closer. Noya couldn’t help but close the gap between them. 

This time, his body didn’t reject the touch. It didn’t feel awful.

Instead, his arms were wrapped tightly around Asahi like a vice grip, face buried in his chest. It must have been a mix of the comforting scent of his room and the fact that he was the most reassuring man on the planet, but Noya melted into the touch as Asahi pulled him in closer and wrapped the blanket around the two of them. 

Asahi ran a gentle hand down his back, the other running through Noya’s hair. He felt himself sigh in satisfaction, and a laugh rumbled in his friend’s chest. 

“Better?” 

Noya leaned his head back, letting his eyes close to the feeling of cool blowing from the vents and the birds chirping by the window. Maybe this was exactly what he needed.

“Better.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was so sad at the scarce amount of parental Ukai stuff out there and I will stand on this hill until I fill up the tag.
> 
> Drop a comment if you liked it!! I love all the characters, so I might write even more, who knows? :D


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